He had shirked about obscure streets, among friendly dim lights, till the thing had become second nature to him.

But at last he was driven abroad in daylight.

The cause was sufficient; he had not tasted food for forty-eight hours, and he could not endure the misery of his hunger in idle hiding.

He came along a back street, glowering at the loaves in bake-shop windows, and feeling that he could trade his life away for a morsel to eat.

The sight of the bread doubled his hunger; but it was good to look at it, any how, and imagine what one might do if one only had it.
Presently, in the middle of the street he saw a shining spot--looked again--did not, and could not, believe his eyes--turned away, to try them, then looked again.